I Don't Think We're In Lorien Anymore, Frodo"
by Bean2
Summary: Rating for later chapters. Crossover Fic, HP/Lotr. What do you get when you take four hobbits from Middle-Earth, and two Wizards and a Witch from Britain toss them in a bucket and mix them all around? This story!


"I Don't Think We're in Lorien Anymore, Frodo."  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Does it look like I'm having that much fun? Silly reader.  
  
Chapter 1: "To Mister Parry Hotter for takin' us to meet *hic* to meet new people!"  
  
None of them knew exactly how it happened. One minute they'd all been in Lorien taking rest from the perilous Ring quest (in fact they'd all been enjoying a lovely dinner) when, after a great blinding flash of light, Pippin Took, Merry Brandybuck, Frodo Baggins, and Sam Gamgee all found themselves in snow up to their armpits.  
  
"Where are we?" It was Frodo's small voice that broke the silence, and Pippin's even smaller one that answered him.  
  
"I don't think we're in Lorien anymore, Frodo." Frodo had no reply to this, and neither did Merry or Sam, so for a moment they all just stood shivering. Then, without any warning at all, Pippin began calling, in his high clear hobbit voice, for help.  
  
"Pippin! Quiet down! We don't know what is out there! There could be Orcs swarming these woods!" Merry scolded, looking warily about himself.  
  
Pippin turned, as well as he could in the deep snow, to his cousin, looking very huffy indeed. "Well, there are people up there and I do not know about you but I am fairly stuck in this snow, so I intend to bring them to us. Help!"  
  
The others saw that this was indeed true and began calling for help as well. Help did arrive, in the form of three human children: a short girl with frizzy brown hair, a tall gangly boy with red hair and freckles, and a short skinny boy with raven-coloured hair and glasses, and a curious scar on his forehead. They stumbled through the snow, stopping short when they saw the four hobbits stuck in the drift. The two boys immediately pulled out long narrow bits of wood which they pointed in the direction of the hapless hobbits.  
  
The hobbits, guessing from the grim looks on the boys faces as they pointed their sticks, that these were not good sticks to have pointed at themselves cowered and shielded their heads with their arms.  
  
"Please!" cried Frodo, "Put away your weapons. We mean you no harm; we are caught in the snow."  
  
"Oi!" The girl rushed to Frodo, lifting him from the snow and gathering him into her arms. "Leave them alone! They're frightened!"  
  
"Hermione! Put that thing down. You don't know what it is! It could be one of You-know-who's spies!" said the red-headed boy, looking around warily, just as Merry had only moments before.  
  
"I don't think so." said the boy with the glasses. "They look like house- elves to me."  
  
"Elves!" cried Sam, managing to look very indignant from his spot in the snow. "Elves indeed. I'm not an elf anymore than I'm a man. We're hobbits, if you please."  
  
The girl, Hermione, looked so surprised at his exclamation that she nearly dropped Frodo back into the snow, but instead she took a disbelieving look to her face. "Right then," She said. "I suppose next you'll be telling me that you're Bilbo Baggins?"  
  
It was Frodo's turn to look surprised. "You know, Bilbo?" The girl merely stared at him. "Well, I am not him, bit he *is* my uncle. Hermione laughed at that.  
  
"Right. So I suppose that makes you Frodo Baggins?" Frodo nodded, wondering how she'd come to know his name. "And I suppose you're Sam Gamgee?" Sam nodded as well. "Merry Brandybuck?" she said to Pippin. Pippin shook his head.  
  
"Pippin Took." He said.  
  
"Oh, so you must be Merry then." she said, turning to Merry. Merry nodded, and Hermione burst into laughter. The boys merely looked confused. "So you expect us to believe that characters from 'Lord of the Rings' just come popping up in Britain?"  
  
"Well, ma'am." said Sam, looking confused even as recognition dawned on the faces of the two boys. "I don't rightly know that we've ever been characters in anything, nor what 'Lord of the Rings' is, unless you mean the Enemy and we aren't from him. I can't say I know what you're talking about, ma'am."  
  
Hermione looked about to speak again, but Frodo spoke first. "Please, Lady. I would ask that you help my companions and I get indoors and then we will tell you all that you should like to know." Merry, Pippin, and Sam all nodded vigorously, for their teeth were chattering now and they were all very cold.  
  
"Well, alright… Harry? Ron? Do you think you can manage those three? I've got *Frodo*, here." She said, emphasising his name to show that she still didn't believe them. So the boy with the glasses lifted Pippin and the red- headed boy lifted Merry and Sam and the whole lot of them trudged through the snow into the streets of a small village where they were set on their feet, and they stood, brushing snow from their clothing and rubbing their hands together. The three humans stood as if seeing the hobbits for the first time: their old fashioned clothing, short stature, bare, hairy feet…  
  
"Merlin's Beard!" Cried the red-head. "Whatever you are you certainly aren't from around here!"  
  
Pippin gave the boy his best exasperated look. "We're hobbits!" He said, "And where exactly is here, and who are you, since you already seem to know who we are?"  
  
I'm Harry Potter." Said the boy with the glasses and the three of them stood, looking expectantly at the hobbits. They however, knew not what they were expected to say to this, and really couldn't see why it seemed so important. So they remained silent, waiting for the others to introduce themselves.  
  
"Well, er… This is Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley." Harry's voice was full of confusion, but Pippin thought that he'd detected a bit of relief in there as well.  
  
Frodo did the honours for the hobbits, even though their names were already known. It seemed odd to him, to only have a one sided introduction. "I am Frodo Baggins, son of Drogo Baggins. This is Meriadoc, son of Saradoc, of the house of Brandybuck, Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the house of Took, and Samwise, son of Hamfast of the Gamgees."  
  
"Merry." Said Merry, with a nod of his head.  
  
"And Pippin" from Pippin with a half-smile and a wave.  
  
The humans turned next to Sam, as if waiting for his nickname, but he stood silent. He wasn't to keen on these humans who'd thought them elves, and then liars. He certainly was not an elf, and he wasn't anymore liar than he was an elf.  
  
"Well," said Pippin, breaking the uncomfortable silence that Sam's obvious mistrust had formed, "We'd still like to know where we are, if you've a mind to tell us."  
  
"Oh! Right…" said Hermione, looking less and less sure of herself with each passing moment. "Well, you're on Earth. In Britain. In the village of Hogsmeade to be precise about it."  
  
"You mean Middle-Earth, I hope." Merry said, his face screwed up with confusion.  
  
"No, just Earth." Hermione told him. "If you really are hobbits, which somehow I'm starting to believe, you're in an entirely different world." She looked eager suddenly, no doubt from the thought of all the interesting things these hobbits could teach her. "I'm sorry for not believing you. I do now. And Harry and Ron do too, right?"  
  
"Er…" said Harry.  
  
"Well I…" said Ron.  
  
"Right?" repeated Hermione, her tone all the warning they needed.  
  
"Right." Harry and Ron chorused.  
  
"Good then!" said Hermione, clasping her hands together. "Let's go to the Three Broomsticks. We'll buy you butterbeers!"  
  
This cheered the hobbits greatly, and they followed their new human friends to a small tavern bustling with more humans. They found an empty table and sat, though, much to the dismay of the hobbits, the tables were all man- sized and once they'd all clambered into their chairs, their feet dangled several centimetres from the floor.  
  
Hermione ordered butterbeers all around when Madam Rosemerta came to their table and the hobbits soon got their fingers on what Pippin deemed "The finest ale I've ever tasted". Soon, he and Merry, who quite agreed with him, had their tankards drained and were calling for more. It was when the pair was on their fourth round that Harry noticed they were acting strangely.  
  
"Herm," he whispered, "I think they're drunk." Hermione nodded.  
  
"I suppose butterbeer has more of an affect on hobbits, like house-elves."  
  
Their conversation was interrupted by a shout from Merry.  
  
"Passelgrin! I say we propose a toast!" He'd raised his glass dangerously high on his wobbly arm. "To the lovely Madam Roso- Rosmo, Rom…" He made a face. "To Madam Rosie! For keeping our glasses filled with this lovely stuff!" This earned a grin from Madam Rosemerta who was passing with another tray of drinks for a table of old wizards in the corner.  
  
"Well said, Master Brandybuck!" Cried Pippin, throwing up his glass as well. They clinked their tankards together and each took a long draught. Then Pippin, as thoroughly besotted as his cousin, waved his glass at the three amused humans. "And what about Miss Himonee? And Missster *hic* Mister Hotter? And… and him? They should be toasted as well for… ah…" He lowered his glass to a more reasonable height and peered into it through half closed eyes. "For what, Cousin? I've lost my words."  
  
Merry thrust his glass into the air. "Just because, Master Took! That will do!"  
  
So Harry, Hermione and Ron were duly saluted, even though they felt they would burst at the seams for laughter. Sam and Frodo, who'd been a bit more careful with their butterbeer, were not without their own bit of tipsyness as they leaned comfortably on one another, their feet propped up on chairs. Sam was going on about rope and Frodo was staring into his glass as though there was something swimming around in it.  
  
Harry felt a nudge in his side, and turned to see Ron looking at him. "Harry, as amusing as all this is… we really should take them to Dumbledore."  
  
"Right" Harry nodded, pushing back from the table. "C'mon you lot. We've got to go. Somebody you need to meet"  
  
"Another toast!" Bellowed Pippin, raising his glass again as Merry lazily did the same. "To Mister Parry Hotter for takin' us to meet *hic* to meet new people!" The glasses were clinked and drained and the two drunken hobbits pushed their chairs out. Apparently, though, Pippin found the drop from the chair to the floor too much for him, and he ended up on his rear with a solid thump. Merry, who'd faired better with his landing, attempted to help him up but only succeeded in landing them both on the floor in a giggling heap. As it had been all night, Frodo and Sam were more careful and both landed safely on the floor. They looked from Merry and Pippin, still giggling madly on the floor, to the three humans and shrugged as if to say 'We aren't responsible for them'.  
  
"C'mon then." Harry said to Ron. "Looks like we'll have to carry them. Let's take the passage through Honeydukes."  
  
So, Harry took Pippin, who promptly fell asleep, and Ron took Merry who stayed quite awake, babbling on about this and that, not realising, or not caring that with his mixed and muddled words no one could really understand him.  
  
As Harry had suggested, they took the passage in the Honeyduke's basement, and Ron was obliged to clap and hand over the mouth of the chattering hobbit in his arms too keep him from attracting too much attention as they snuck into the basement. They made quick work of the passage, speaking only when Ron realised that Merry had drooled all over his hand ("Slimy little git! He bloody drooled on me!"). They made it into the castle unhindered and hurried, as best they could with four drunk hobbits, to Dumbledore's office. The first barrier they faced was the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance.  
  
"Do you remember the password?" Harry asked, looking at Ron and Hermione.  
  
"Last time I was here it was Lemon Drop again." Hermione supplied.  
  
"Lemon Drop?" Harry tried tentatively. The gargoyle didn't budge. "Sugar Quill? Sherbert Lemon. Chocolate Frog? Fizzing Whizbee?"  
  
The gargoyle remained stationary, but the commotion roused Pippin who looked up at Harry through bleary eyes and slurred "Whizzing Fibzee?", and to Harry's great surprise, the gargoyle slowly moved to the side. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared down at Pippin in utter amazement. Ron let out a laugh and scratched his head.  
  
"Never would have guessed that one…" He muttered, grinning a bit, and they ushered Frodo and Sam through the door and up the spiral staircase. They found that the heavy wooden door was already open and Professor Dumbledore was at his desk, leaning over his pensieve.  
  
"Excuse me, Headmaster?" Harry called setting down the sleepy hobbit. Dumbledore looked up.  
  
"Gandalf!" Cried Frodo and Pippin simultaneously as they each rushed him, and Gandalf stood just in time to receive an armful of giddy hobbits.  
  
"Gandalf! You're alive!" Pippin exclaimed, burying his face in the folds of Dumbledore's robes. "I'm sorry, Gandalf! I'll never throw stones in wells again!" Were the next muffled words. Frodo just stood, gazing lovingly up at the old wizard, obviously too shocked, or too tipsy, to say anything. Professor Dumbledore, for the first time since Harry had known him, looked confused.  
  
"Sorry Professor." Hermione mumbled, disentangling the two clinging hobbits from the Headmaster's robes. "Er, Pippin, Frodo… this isn't Gandalf. This is Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"Oh," Pippin blushed, and it appeared that he'd been startled right out of his buzz. "My apologies, sir."  
  
"Professor," Said Harry as Ron lowered Merry to the ground. "We'd like you to meet Pippin Took, Merry Brandybuck, Frodo Baggins, and Sam Gamgee." He paused, noting the look of surprised recognition on Dumbledore's face. "They're hobbits."  
  
"Hobbits?" Dumbledore lowered his half-moon glasses to study them. "Well, so they are!" He said with a hearty laugh. "Merlin's beard, its been a long time since I've seen any of your kind!"  
  
"You've met hobbits before, Professor?" Harry asked, gaping openly at Dumbledore who smiled and readjusted his glasses.  
  
"A very long time ago, as I said. Your Bilbo, Frodo. He and his friend Sigismond Took. And of such mischievous hobbits the Shire has never seen the like." He paused, looking at Merry and Pippin. "Well…" He drifted off then, and there was the twinkle of fond memories in his eyes, and for a moment he stood silent, lost in the reverie of pleasant days gone by.  
  
"Er, Headmaster?" Harry called. "Could we perhaps discuss how we're going to get them home?"  
  
"Oh yes, yes, quite right. Well, they won't be going home anytime soon. At least not for another month. The dimensional and time travel spell requires a potion that must be brewed from one full month to the next, and drunk on the night of the second full moon. We can start the potion tonight."  
  
Ron looked to the hobbits. "You lot haven't been working any magick, have you?"  
  
"No, good sir. We hobbits are a non-magickal folk." Answered Frodo. Merry, who'd been looking sleepier and sleepier with each passing minute finally dropped off, still besotted with butterbeer, and Sam leaned heavily on Hermione. Pippin gave Merry a dig with his foot in an attempt to wake him ("Meriadoc, you fiend…wake up"), but he also looked drowsy. Frodo, noticing the state of his friends, and feeling the state of his friends, and feeling the warm fingers of sleep closing about him as well, turned to Dumbledore.  
  
"Master Wizard, if I am right to assume that is what you are, would that you would provide my companions and I with a place to spend the night. The situation perhaps would look less confusing after a good rest and a hot breakfast."  
  
"They can sleep in Gryffindor Tower, Headmaster." Ron offered eagerly. "Harry and I can kip on camp beds."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at Ron. "Very well, Mr. Weasley. If it pleases the hobbits." There was no objection to this, indeed Pippin felt that he could sleep peacefully in a wheelbarrow.  
  
"Right then, that's settled." Said Dumbledore. "I'll set the potion to brew and by the next full moon we'll have you home. Off you trot!"  
  
"So bidding Dumbledore good night, and waking Merry, the Gryffindors led the drowsy hobbits to Gryffindor Tower. As they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she took a look of astonishment to her face.  
  
"And who are these small lads?" She inquired, studying the hobbits, who looked equally surprised to see a talking painting.  
  
"That painting is speaking to me!" exclaimed Pippin, looking slightly more alert than he had before. Harry grinned.  
  
"Yeah, all the portraits and photographs here talk, Pippin. Merlin Emrys."  
  
"What?" Asked Frodo as the portrait swung open.  
  
"The password." Harry explained. "If you lot ever want to get in here by yourself, simply say 'Merlin Emrys' and she'll let you in." The whole group climbed through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. The few students milling about the room were just as shocked by the arrival of the halflings as the Fat Lady had been, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron were immediately bombarded with questions.  
  
"They're guests." Ron explained. "Hermione, if you'd like to answer questions, go ahead. Harry and I are taking them up to bed before they fall asleep on their feet." This was the plan the followed and Ron and Harry led the drowsy hobbits up the stairs while the other curious Gryffindors attacked Hermione. Ron snickered.  
  
"She can handle it." He said. "She's a prefect after all."  
  
Seamus Finnigan was already in the sixth year boys' dormitory when they got there. He was sprawled out over his bed, reading a book, and looked up when Harry and Ron entered.  
  
"Oi, Harry, who're they?" Seamus asked, closing and marking his book. Harry caught the title, 'Return of the King' and grinned: this was going to be fun.  
  
"Enjoying your book, Seamus?"  
  
"What? Oh, yeah. Me da' sent it to me. He's says their makin' a picture of it. Wants me to read the books then go see it with him. Who're they, Harry?"  
  
"Oh, right" Harry grinned again, "Seamus, meet Frodo Baggins, Sam Gamgee, Pippin Took, and Merry Brandybuck. Guys, this is Seamus Finnigan."  
  
The hobbits, too sleepy to be courteous, merely waved in reply, Pippin muttering a half-hearted "well met". Seamus, on the other hand, looked in danger of having his eyes fall out of their sockets. He looked from the hobbits, to the book on his bed, then to Harry, who was rooting around in his trunk for shirts for the hobbits to sleep in. Then he laughed.  
  
"Cheer, Harry. Who're they really?"  
  
Harry looked back at him innocently. "I told you who they are." He tossed a shirt to each of the hobbits. "Loo's that way, you can change in there."  
  
The halflings went in the direction of Harry's pointed finger and disappeared in to the bathroom. The minute they were gone, Seamus pounced on Harry and Ron.  
  
"Alright. So either you're lying, or their folks had very odd taste in names, or… or…" He seemed to be having trouble forming the words.  
  
"Or they're the hobbits from your book? That's the one, Seamus." Said Ron with a grin.  
  
"Can't be." Said Seamus, eyeing Harry and Ron as if he expected them to shout 'BOO!' any moment and say it was all a joke, and that these boys were just first years staying because their dormitory was flooded, or on fire, or *something*.  
  
"Well, it's the truth." Said Harry matter-of-factly. "They're hobbits, and they're staying with us for at least a month. Speaking of which." Harry shot Ron a bemused glance. "Who'd go to all that trouble to send, or bring, them to Britain?"  
  
"And why?" added Ron. "It does seem a bit odd."  
  
Seamus watched the whole conversation silently. He didn't intend to get pulled into their joke, then be made to feel like a git when he started believing them. Not Seamus Finnigan. Nope.  
  
With a sigh, Harry flung himself on his bed, throwing his arm dramatically over his face. "Will I never have an uneventful year here?" He lowered his arm and sat up, gazing at Ron as if the answers to all his questions were written on the boy's freckled face. "One year without some mystery, Ron! That's all I ask…"  
  
"A wee bit overdramatic, aren't we Har-" Ron was cut off by the sound of the shower coming on, and a shriek of surprise from one of the hobbits. He sniggered. "Looks like the hobbits found the shower."  
  
So, into the bathroom the three boys went, and were met by a rather amusing sight, not to mention a cloud of steam. Sam, Merry, and Frodo stood near the sink, shouting encouragement to a thoroughly drenched Pippin, who was attempting to brave the scalding water to reach the knob, which was, in all truth, a bit above his reach.  
  
"You can do it, Pippin lad!" Merry encouraged, though he stayed as far from the cascading water as possible.  
  
Grinning, Harry sidestepped Pippin, pushed back the sleeve of his robes, and turned the knob until the water ceased to pour. He looked down at the bedraggled hobbit, who looked very much like a drowned rat with his pointed ears sticking out from the hair plastered to his head. Pippin, highly embarrassed, refused to meet his gaze.  
  
"I didn't do it on purpose." He said. "I only wished to see what would happen if I turned the knob."  
  
Harry, Ron, and Seamus all laughed at that, and Pippin looked up, relieved that he wasn't to be fussed at, but still curious about the shower. Harry pulled a towel off the rack and handed it to him.  
  
"Well," He said. "I daresay you found out, didn't you?"  
  
"Aye," Muttered Pippin, "That I did. Though I'd still fancy knowing what it is."  
  
"It's a shower." Pippin looked confused, so Harry elaborated. "You know, for bathing."  
  
"Bathing," Merry raised his brows. "Have you no tubs to bathe in?"  
  
"We do." Ron pointed to a large bathtub in an alcove to their left. Pippin looked at it in astonishment.  
  
"That's a tub?"  
  
Sam approached and peered over the edge. "Why! I'd be good as drowned in this." He said mournfully. He eyed the shower suspiciously. "Can't say as I'm too keen on that either, that shower. But, I fancy it'll have to do if I don't wish to go around smelling like something I shouldn't"  
  
Harry laughed. "I fancy it will, Sam."  
  
So Pippin was given one of Seamus's shirts to sleep in, this one even more ridiculously large on him than Harry's had been, and the hobbits were bundled into Ron's bed, where they soon fell asleep without so much as a "goodnight". With a last fond smile at the hobbits, Harry turned the light off and followed Ron and Seamus down to the common room. If tonight had been any indication, this was going to be an interesting month.  
  
  
  
A.N.: Well, there's chapter one. :) (I hope this makes you happy Syl. I don't believe in mixing Harry and LotR. ::makes a face::) If you did like this story, then by all means review and tell me what you think. If you didn't, well then you can just go boil your head. ;) anywho… I'd appreciate some story idea's, because wonderful, tho I am, I'm not perfect and I'm having a tiny bit of trouble coming up with the next chapter. Whoops! 


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